Stuffed
by LionessInTheSmoke
Summary: Under the house at the end the mews is a wine cellar. It fulfills its function very well, but really, it is a cover for Harry's secret spy cellar, where he pursues his rather creepy hobby. Mild swearing and implied Malahad.


AN - Excuse me while I ... Oh I don't know. I'll be in the corner. Being weird. By myself.

It definitely all started with the damned dog. _Again_.

No skeletons were dispossessed during the writing of this fic, but watch out for implied Malahad and mild swearing if you are going to squick _real_ easily. Really, there are better things to squick about here. Creepy!Harry and Enabler!Merlin.

* * *

In a dark, dark metropolis there was a dark, dark mews and in the dark, dark mews there was a dark, dark house, and in the dark, dark house there were some dark, dark stairs and down the dark, dark stairs there was a dark, dark cellar and in the dark, dark cellar Harry Hart keeps a very fine collection of expensive and carefully selected wines.

Harry Hart's cellar is definitely not somewhere that anyone or anything lives. Except spiders, and there is nothing he can do about them. Indeed, it would have been terribly inconvenient in his line of work if he _had_ had anyone living close enough to observe his odd comings and goings. He has no need to convert it into one of those terrible 'affordable' rentals, that are only affordable by a very long stretch of the imagination and, his imagination tells him, would still prove to be very depressing places. No sunlight, probably raising damp. Not that Harry's cellar is damp. The climate is in fact very carefully controlled. Harry is very happy with his cellar.

He would have had a much harder time pursuing his hobby without it.

Harry Hart is a spy and as such, he could not be in possession of anything as boring as a normal wine cellar, regardless of how well stocked it is. No. Harry Hart's wine cellar, much as he appreciates it for itself (and its contents) is a cover, like dressing rooms 1 and 3. It hides the entrance to Harry Hart's hobby cellar.

Which is, at the moment, very brightly lit.

"Will you hurry up and take the blasted blindfold off Rupert!" Harry says peevishly. "It is not as if I don't know we are in the cellar."

"Is it still a blindfold if it only covers one eye?" Merlin's Scottish voice whispers at his ear. "Or is it just another eyepatch?"

"Rupert!"

"We went to a lot of effort for this Harry. I think it deserves a proper reveal." Merlin replies and he sounds as if he is smiling.

"It is _the lack_ of revealing I am complaining about." Harry responds. Harry is curious, on occasion nearly fatally so.

Merlin chuckles and removes the scarf from Harry's head.

"Eggsy had the idea."

"All on his own?" Harry asks, looking at his "congratulations on getting out of medical and becoming a paper-pusher, whoops sorry, _respected leader_" present in amazement.

"I never told him about this place, and I assume you didn't either?" Merlin replies. "I was as surprised as you."

Harry shakes his head and pulls the Kingsman tie, that has been abused as a bow, off his gift. He moves in to examine it more closely.

"Why didn't you recommend someone to him? This is quite amateurish work." Harry says. "I may have to attempt to re-do some of it."

"For God's sake don't tell him that Harry, you'll break his precious little heart. He did it himself."

"Really? Well, for a first attempt ..." Harry is also a perfectionist and has trouble accepting anything but the highest of standards in himself or others. "What do you think gave him the idea?"

Merlin shakes his bald head in mild amusement.

"I will hazard a wild guess, and I know it is a wee _bit far-fetched_, but I think it may have something to do with Mr.. Pickles."

"Ah." Says Harry fondly. "Mr.. Pickles."

"Hmm." Says Merlin, who has never shared Harry's fondness for the nasty ankle-biter, in either of his incarnations, and rather wishes Mr. Pickles was down here with the rest of the 'exhibits' rather than prominently displayed, almost _enthroned_ one could say, in the downstairs loo. Merlin does not believe that is particularly sanitary.

"I'd gotten really good by the time it came to his turn." Harry says nostalgically.

"Perhaps it would be fairer to compare the effort with your first attempt." Merlin says, his lip curling into a slight smile. "Let me see." He taps his lip, putting on a show of forgetfulness that is not even remotely believable. "That would be the one hidden at the back, in the dark corner, wouldn't it? The one you bought back from Cambodia? I can wheel them next to each other and we can do a comparison."

"Thank you Rupert, that will not be necessary." Harry says in a dry tone, one that Merlin knows well and correctly interprets to mean _do kindly sod off you Scottish prat_.

Harry continues to examine his gift.

"Why do you suppose he chose the top hat and suit?" Harry asks. "It was hardly typical."

"It's Eggsy, I don't think you should read too much into it. It is likely because the only other clothes to hand were rather the worst for wear, what with the blade and all."

Harry tuts.

"He needs to learn the value of authenticity and making the subject look natural, even if it means a little extra effort. Caps and polo shirts are not rare items."

"There is a lot that boy needs to learn. It is debatable whether those are top of the list." Merlin replies. "Personally, I would put 'when to take your damned glasses off' and 'hands off the untested prototypes' higher."

"Do you think he wants to learn? Or do you think this was a one-off gift idea?"

"The boy worships the ground you walk on Harry. You could offer to teach him lace-making and he would leap at the chance."

"Jealous, Darling?" Harry asks, smiling innocently over his shoulder. "I know how much you enjoy our _lace-making_ sessions."

Merlin rolls his eyes.

"No. I wouldn't mind you having someone else to inflict your creepy hobby on." Merlin huffs. "He needs to stop _touching my stuff_ though."

Harry hums in a way that Merlin knows means he is thinking.

"Carbonara for dinner?" He asks casually.

It's a trap! He just can't see what the trap is yet. _Carbonara is always a trap_.

"Tiramisu for dessert?" The only response is to raise the stakes. If he is going to be screwed over, then at least in a good cause. Harry's tiramisu is an excellent cause.

"If you like." Harry pretends to be generous. _The devious bastard_.

"Ok." Merlin acquiesces and waits for the trap to spring closed.

"Lovely, I'll send Eggsy a text and invite him over to help me find a spot for my gift. Depending on how he reacts to the collection I will make the offer to teach him, or dart him. Then we can all have dinner together, giving you the perfect opportunity to _figuratively_, and I really must stress that Love, _to figuratively mark your territory_."

As far as the plans go that he has been blindly thrown into by Harry over the years, it could have been much worse Merlin admits.

"Alright." He agrees, happier now that he knows what he is agreeing to. "Best leave the trolley here then so you can wheel him into place."

He heads to the door that leads back into the wine cellar, a hand on the lightswitch as he waits for Harry to follow him.

"Come on, you have cooking to do and I need to mentally prepare for the onslaught of _overly-enthusiastic chav puppy_." He flicks the switch and plunges Harry's hobby cellar, with his collection of stuffed megalomaniacs (Valentine, the latest addition, looking decidedly overdressed, still stood on the moving trolley) into darkness.

* * *

_Thank you ever so much for the thoughtful gift Eggsy. Please join me for dinner and help me decide where best to place it for maximum effect. Wear work clothes and bring an apron. Harry._

* * *

AN2 - Yeah, that was weird.

But I managed to get all my current favorite obsessions in (Malahad, Eggsy's unexpected skillz, Merlin's possessiveness of his stuff, Harry's secret spy cellar, carbonara and tiramisu).


End file.
